


do you know how hard that is to get around and think about?

by singing_to_empty_caves



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man: Homecoming (2017)
Genre: Angst, Hurt No Comfort, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Not Avengers: Infinity War Part 1 (Movie) Compliant, Suicidal Thoughts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-24
Updated: 2019-01-24
Packaged: 2019-10-15 15:05:48
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,507
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17531024
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/singing_to_empty_caves/pseuds/singing_to_empty_caves
Summary: --READ THE TAGS--Peter Parker lost someone, and he can't sleep, but that's such a selfish thing to say that he hates himself for it.Very loosely inspired by "Taken By Sleep" by Tyler Joseph.





	do you know how hard that is to get around and think about?

**Author's Note:**

> This entire story deals with the aftermath of a suicide, so please, look out for yourselves.

Peter Parker stared up at the ceiling of his bedroom, vaguely aware of the way his bedsheets were knotted around his feet. It was probably from all of his tossing and turning. And, really, he kind of missed that.

There wasn’t anything comforting about drifting through various states of consciousness, but it was so much worse when he settled on ‘wide awake and fully aware.’ There were all of these thoughts that he didn’t want to think, and so many made-up scenarios he wouldn’t let himself forget. _Could’ve done this. Should’ve done that._ Right, like he had the sense in him to do anything about the problem. He was _literally superhuman,_ but nothing about what happened set off the… _whatever_ it was that made him freak out on all levels if he was in any danger at all.

Speaking of that weird alarm in his head, as if it wasn’t insulting enough that he didn’t get a warning for what happened, it had started going off at the tiniest things. Aunt May had come home late one night, and by the time she got through the door, he was holding her and sobbing his eyes out because of that _stupid pounding in his head_ that made him think she was gone, too. She’d literally just stopped to pick up dinner, and there he was at the door, suit halfway on and Karen’s voice barely audible in the mask on the floor asking if he’d still like her to request permission to track May down in the city.

At least now, curled up in bed, he knew the pounding in his head was just the headache from not eating for… a while, and not because someone was dying and he needed to know.

But really, was there any reason for him to need that message? It wasn’t like he could just swing his way upstate to fix things. He would’ve gotten there too late. Who knows, maybe Mr. Stark had had FRIDAY lock down the building anyways. It would explain why nobody knew where he was or what he’d--what happened until…

...until his fiancé had become the highest authority by default, and FRIDAY had let her in, if she even had to let her in, but Miss Potts had found a body.

But if Peter had just _called_ him…

He called all the time for other reasons, for little things like a kid who wanted an autograph and Peter felt _so honored,_ or an Iron Man toy with a bunch of voice samples that sounded more like a sports announcer flaunting his moral compass than anything close to Mr. Stark. (It was probably a knockoff; Mr. Stark had made enough public appearances that people knew his voice, even if they might not have gotten him to record the samples himself.) He called about a new fan movie focused on Darth Vader, and occasionally he even called about something relevant, like his suit.

Mr. Stark always picked up, even if he sounded like he wanted to slam Peter’s head into a wall. He picked up and always stayed at least a few minutes--unless he had to pay attention to something, and then he usually remembered to call back later.

Maybe, if Peter had called, they could’ve discussed this. Maybe they could talk about suicidality, and stress, and hopelessness, and Peter wouldn’t feel like he was cheated out of something.

He was, though. He’d hated life enough already, but he pushed through it all. Then, Mr. Stark just had to make everything _worse._ How come he got to die? Peter hadn’t really thought about this much before, but he realized at this point that he just didn’t want to be here anymore. But he couldn’t do the same thing, because of May and Ned and MJ and all of the people who’d get hurt without Spider-Man.

He wasn’t an Avenger. He was on his own, and he couldn’t abandon his post.

Everyone tried to feed him crap about how “you need time to grieve” and “losing someone takes a while to get over.” And maybe he’d believe it, if he didn’t know that Pepper Potts was buried in the paperwork of what Tony Stark had left behind. Maybe he’d believe it if he hadn’t retroactively seen the way May Parker looked at her nephew Peter only days after the death of her husband, and saw him fill the rest of his cereal bowl with the crushed-up dust from the very bottom of the box, and called her boss about taking on more hours. Maybe he’d believe it if he didn’t know that sitting around and feeling sorry for himself was selfish and greedy when everyone who really had a right to be upset had to pick up the pieces.

What he really wanted to do was put on the suit and go _help people._ But it was four in the morning, and he’d had enough of the way all of the teachers looked at him when he came in with bags under his eyes. He was _sick_ of dealing with the people who tried to call him out on an Iron Man obsession because of how torn up he was, or the ones who joked about how far he was taking the internship lie. He could go out and be Spider-Man, but it was more important to be put-together Peter Parker and make sure nobody realized how much he was holding back.

Ned knew, or at least, he thought he did. Peter had stopped calling him after the first few nights, because he was just causing everyone more trouble by demanding so much attention. They talked at school, but less and less often. Maybe Ned had figured out that Peter wasn’t okay. As long as it stayed between them, it didn’t matter too much.

May knew less than she thought she did, too. He didn’t talk much to her anymore, either, but she at least thought he was sleeping. It probably helped that his suit had remained untouched since he’d assaulted her at the door. She probably felt like she wasn’t doing enough for him, but he didn’t want her to feel like she had to do more.

He managed Spider-Man on his own for a while. He never really absolutely needed any help until someone had started helping him already. He wouldn’t have gone for the alien weapons thing unless he’d had the Stark suit. And if he could make it through being a hero with homemade webs and a baggy DIY costume, he could definitely make it through the end of the school year, even if he didn’t do anything outstanding during it. (His grades were good enough to get him into a good college, even if it wasn’t MIT, but he didn’t think he would’ve made it to scholarship levels at MIT anyways, so why bother?)

Yeah, as long as he could act normal, he wouldn’t seem so selfish and pathetic. Right?

But hiding is exactly what made Mr. Stark--

...Peter wouldn’t let it get that far. He couldn’t make people hurt the way some people were hurting over the current disaster.

Maybe it would’ve been better if he hadn’t ever gotten involved in Mr. Stark’s life. When the ferry nearly sank, he told Peter that he was a weight on his conscience. Maybe, if he’d just shut up and acted like a normal polite teenager, if he hadn’t nearly gotten himself killed on multiple occasions--maybe then he wouldn’t have been so taxing on the man he idolized.

Maybe then he wouldn’t have to think about everything that happened because the entire world decided to screw Tony Stark over.

Nothing hurt worse than losing someone he called a mentor, and maybe even a friend. He had no right to say that, but it was how things had started to feel, like he could trust Mr. Stark and things were good. Obviously, that wasn’t true, but it’s what Peter had thought, and that kind of made it worse. Because he had to take all of it in at once, that he meant nothing to him and there wasn’t any chance of that ever changing, since the man he looked up to was _dead._

Then again, how could Peter think like this? The world had just lost a really good man, and a teenager in Queens was self-centered enough to think that it was partially his fault. A teenager mourned the loss of someone he didn’t know for most of his life. What did that make him? Some overattached _fanboy?_

No matter what people said, the therapists and the friends and the one family member left--no matter what they said, he cancelled the appointments they couldn’t afford and shut everyone out because he had _no right to grieve._

Tony Stark was dead. Peter Parker knew that, and he made sure everyone around him believed that it didn’t matter that much. He just did his homework, went to school, and hated himself for not being stronger.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading.
> 
> If you're in danger, here are some numbers:  
> Crisis Text Line: US-741741, Canada-686868  
> Suicide Prevention Hotline: US-1-800-273-8255  
> Here's a full list of numbers if you're not in North America: http://ibpf.org/resource/list-international-suicide-hotlines
> 
> Stay alive.


End file.
